


Sewing Ghostly Seeds

by LiteratureLapin



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: written for the spookytimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 15:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteratureLapin/pseuds/LiteratureLapin
Summary: A moonlit night, a meeting, and a metamorphisus.





	Sewing Ghostly Seeds

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is an idea I've had in mind for a while. Since the spookytimes are as good as here, I figured I might as well make it happen. I hope you enjoy!

A cool autumn wind swept through an old street, the area illuminated only by the waning moon's faint glow. All those who went about their business in the day had long since gone to sleep; the only ones still out and about were nocturnal pokemon and restless spirits.

One such restless spirit sat inside an old, rather run-down home. Well, if it could really be called 'sitting'. In reality, the position was something more along the lines of 'haphazardly reclined against a wall'. Not that they had a say in the matter; it was rather difficult to move when your body was primarily composed of thread and stuffing. In fact, it was actually quite hard to do anything when that was the case. The feline spirit couldn't remember how long it'd been like this, but it had no doubt been far too long.

'If only she were here, then she could roll me over or move me somewhere else'.

The thought came unbidden, just as it had the last hundred or so times. 'If only she were here'. But she wasn't. She hadn't been for a very long time. When was the last time they'd heard that laugh? Seen that smile? They couldn't begin to recall. But they could still vividly recall what they looked and sounded like. And they could remember how gentle her touch was, as if one movement too rough would break them.

'I miss you...'

A cool wind blew around the old house, its walls letting out the softest creaking.

'But do you miss me?'

Oh, who were they kidding, she didn't miss them. She'd left and never come back, leaving them behind to fend for themself. What kind of 'bestest friend forever' did that? Did she even consider them that to begin with, or had she just been acting silly? Why? Why had she left them behind? What had they done to deserve that? Had they just not been fun enough? Cute enough? Soft enough? Had she decided a real skitty was better than a plush one?

Grrrr. Why'd this stupid mental tangent have to keep happening? It was maddening! 'I'd rather think about the ratata that ate my tail or count the webs in the corners at this rate', they thought bitterly. 'Just once I'd like to not think of that... that...'

The wind drifted through the house, through the halls, and bumped against a door that was slightly ajar as it attempted to make its way inside.

The restless doll, busy stewing in its endless bitterness, was unaware of this occurance. 'Urgh. Stupid thoughts. Stupid child. Stupid me for thinking it'd ever last.'

'If only I could move... Then I'd... I'd...'

'Track her down? Get answers? Seek revenge?'

'What the-!' If the doll had been able to move, it'd likely have jumped out of its skin at the sudden intrusion. 'Who...!'

The 'wind' hovered in the room before finally bringing itself to rest atop the discruntled plush toy's head with an amused chatter, its cloth-like form draping over them. 'Apologies for the interuption, but your emotions were just too delicious to resist~'

'Great. Now I get ratata eating my body, and you eating my feelings.' they remarked with no small quantity of irritation.

'Now now~ I didn't just come here to dine on your negativity', the being replied, giving off a teasing air. 'As a matter of fact, I believe we might be able to help one another'.

The doll's curiosity had been piqued by the stranger's words. 'And how would that be...?'

'You see', the stranger began, 'My strength is not too great. But I can change this with a little... assistance. To be more specific, I require your body.'

A pause.

'Why should I even consider gracing that with a response?' the doll responded, displeased with the direction this was heading so far.

'Because, you won't be bound here anymore.' the ghost stated confidently. 'You can move, you can see the world, feel the air and sun against your skin. You can see and hear and smell and taste and touch whatever you want.'

The doll's interest grew with each word.

'You can find her.'

And the last statement got their full focus. 'I...'

'Yes.' the stranger continued excitedly. 'You can find her. You can see her face, and her smile. You can hear her laugh. You can be reunited if that is what you want. Or... you can get back at her. Get revenge for being abandoned, for being left behind to decay in this dead home.'

Another thoughtful pause.

'...I'll do it.'

The stranger smirked. 'I thought you'd agree'.

The very next instant, an odd light poured off the stranger's form. Tendrils of it reached out, wrapping around the doll's limp and tattered body like a swarm of spiders weaving an etherial web. Old threads ripped and tore under the light's touch as new ones were sewn among ghostly matter. Soon, the old doll's form began to shift.

Parts shortened and lengthened. Colors dulled or changed entirely. Things that hadn't been there before were crafted by the ghostly glow that had fully enveloped the doll. And it tingled.

It tingled.

And it burned.

A raspy growl of strain escaped a still-forming throat and slid past closed lips. Threads stretched, components shifted, and a plethora of new and strange sensations flooded the creature as everything changed.

Almost as quickly as it had begun, the transformation ended. The ghostly creature took in a deep breath...

...and let out a loud, rattling cry. A cry of exileration, a cry of triumph, and a cry of life. It's body shuttered with the thrill of the completed transformation before it finally relaxed.

The creature's new form rose up and drifted through the air, almost upon instinct. Thoughts hazy, it floated through the abandoned home, and soon found itself at a dirty mirror, just barely clear enough to show a reflection.

The purple-eyed pokemon that looked back at it was unrecognizable. It was dark gray, with long arms and short legs. A long ribbon trailed from its head, which was adorned with three small spikes. It had a brush-like tail, and its mouth was a zipper that likely hadn't been there before.

At its reflection, it...they began to ponder.

'Just what am I now? Who am I...?'

A contemplating tilt of its head. A soft hum of thought.

'I have...memories. Of feeding on fear and anger and bitterness. But also of feeling those things. I remember being in so many places, but also being trapped here, in this stagnant place...'

It was rather strange, being both your prey and your predator, they thought.

'But also, I... I feel...'

Sadness and satisfaction. Lonelyness and livelyness. Mischief and anger.

Betrayal.

'Of course.' they thought, their body shuttering with the rush of emotions. 'Hmm. I think...'

They drifted to an old, shattered window. Careful to avoid the sharp shards that remained, they slid out and into the open moonlight. They couldn't help but let out a sigh of satisfaction at the cool, fresh air.

'I think... I know what I am. Who I am.'

They made their way into the open and started to roam the empty streets. It was time to find their path. It was time to find her. 

Another rattling cry erupted from them, one of determination and purpose. Tonight, a new soul was born from the desire and bitterness of two.

'I am banette. And I am alive.'

**Author's Note:**

> It's said banette comes to be when a doll comes to life from a powerful grudge. Personally, I always felt that kind of contradicted the fact it evolves from shuppet. So, I wondered if the two factors could be connected in a coherent way, and this fic was born.  
> Not sure if I succeeded, but I tried.


End file.
